Set My Heart Afire (Willow x Wilson Don't Starve)
by Mirrors-Betrayal
Summary: Willow and Wilson are survivors, one more capable of the other. One's a pyromaniac and the other's a gentleman scientist. What could possibly happen?
1. A Chance Meeting

A/N: It's been a long time since I've written canon characters the way they're supposed to be portrayed. I hope I don't butcher these two lmao

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Approximately five weeks have passed since Wilson was transported to this dangerous dimension. As a man of science, Wilson should have been intrigued with the various creatures and plants that mirrored the real world, but this treacherous realm was the furthest thing from interesting. Behind every rock, hiding in every tree, and leaping across every pond was a new threat. Even by the fire there was a chance to be attacked by something - a pack of hounds, a territorial beefalo, anything.

A defeated sigh left the scientist's lips as he squatted on the ground, igniting the kindling he had placed a few hours prior. The sun was beginning to set and soon this world would be infested with shadow creatures sent by the mysterious entity called Charlie.

Taking a seat on the ground, Wilson exhaled yet again, stretching his legs out while he balanced himself on his hands. There was barely any time for rest today. Wilson closed his eyes as he reflected on today's events. Berry picking, spider slaying, crafting half a dozen items, running for dear life... His tired eyes slowly peeled open as he gazed at the empty sky above him.

A low growl resonated from the scientist's gut. _I don't have much_ , Wilson thought to himself, sliding a crude backpack off his shoulders. It seemed like a lifetime ago that he had made this. Back when he had a proper science machine.. Too bad that got destroyed by a Clockwork Knight. Regardless, Wilson learned his lesson. Don't try to observe the sentient machines.

Opening his pack, Wilson realized all he had to eat tonight was a handful of berries and two carrots. Wilson wasn't even sure these berries weren't poison. There was no way to know unless he ate them, but considering how he hasn't died after weeks of consuming these foreign plants, he reassured himself he was fine. Probably.

Using the fire to his advantage, Wilson roasted the very few items he had for dinner tonight rotisserie style after piercing his food with some twigs he had gathered while he was out. Even though this had been enough to sustain him these past few weeks, it was apparent that if he continued to barely scrape by like this, he would more than likely starve. His stomach roared impatiently as the mere morsels he had obtained today cooked just inches away.

Even if his food wasn't completely finished, Wilson wanted to - _had to_ \- eat. Eagerly, Wilson took his miniscule portions by the very twig they cooked on, barely letting anything cool before stuffing his face. His mouth burned and half of what he ate tasted of charcoal, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was a man of science, not a man of culinary. The only cooking he was ever good at involved chemicals that couldn't - or rather shouldn't - be consumed by a living being, anyways.

As soon as Wilson realized he had finished his rations for the night, he sank into his shoulders. He tossed the twigs he had used for tonight's meal into the flames in defeat. Bringing his knees to his chest, the once proud and brilliant scientist wallowed in self pity. There was no way he could survive for much longer. Not like this.

There was a time when Wilson wasn't this pessimistic. He was bright, brilliant, confident in his future. But all of that changed the minute his ridiculous ego decided to listen to the devil. Maxwell had tricked Wilson into creating a portal into this world and... No. Wilson willingly did this to himself. Burying his face into his knees, Wilson hugged himself next to the bright flames that kept him from dying in the darkness.

It wasn't Maxwell's fault he was such a fool. The pursuit of knowledge had rendered Wilson a beacon of stupidity and it truly showed the moment Maxwell whispered in his ear. The only thing that made Wilson feel better about this whole banishment to another dimension gig was that the devil who had taken advantage of him was overthrown by another entity. But of course, the realization that this overlord wanted to torture and kill him too wasn't far behind the celebration of Maxwell's failure.

Wilson lifted his head from the warmth of his own embrace as his dull eyes locked on the bright orange flames in front of him. There was no use caring about Maxwell or even Charlie. Those two were evils in a constant power struggle, so to hell with the both of them. Wilson needed to focus on surviving. The scientist's lips parted and a melodious yawn escaped.

He would survive, but for now, he needed to rest. Oh, what he wouldn't give for a bed, or even just a single pillow under his head. With uncertainty looming over his head, Wilson laid flat on the cold ground below, curling up semi-close to the fire in order to keep warm. Closing his eyes, Wilson tucked his hands under his head, praying that tomorrow would be kinder.

The sun rose high in the otherwise empty sky, awakening Wilson from his restless sleep. He had survived another night, but could he survive another day? Groggily lifting himself onto his feet, Wilson rubbed his eyes and let out a yawn. As soon as he opened his eyes, Wilson reached down and hoisted his backpack over his shoulder. Hopefully he could find some real food today. There was no time to waste, since winter would be on its way very soon.

The air was getting colder and the days were getting shorter. Wilson hugged himself, rubbing at his arms. He was shivering the moment he walked away from the embers that were left in his campsite. There was absolutely no way he could make it through winter if he was this ill prepared.

It felt like hours had passed as he wandered through the woods, picking up every bit of tall grass, twigs, and berries he could find. This area seemed to have been picked clean by someone - or something. The seasons were changing, so unless Gobblers differed from turkeys back home, that could explain the berries basically vanishing. Tall grass could have been eaten by wandering beefalo, but twigs? Wilson couldn't think of any creature that took twigs. And as for beefalo, Wilson had moved his fire pretty far from the last herd after a very angry beefalo tried to run him down.

Scratching his chin subconsciously, he felt a bit of a beard beginning to form. Without a mirror, it was harder to confirm what he looked like, but judging by how scratchy and strange it felt, Wilson had no doubt he looked like a delinquent. This didn't suit a gentleman scientist, not at all.

Discouraged, Wilson continued on. Before he knew it, evening had began to settle across the land and Wilson internally panicked, since he had wandered very far from camp and didn't know the way back. The evenings were even shorter than the days, so he would need to find flint quick. He still had time to make an axe. Wilson began to jog, his eyes panning across the forest floor for even the smallest bit of flint. His stomach began to turn into knots and he realized that despite eating something the night before, he barely ate enough to make him even half full.

There was no way he could keep running. Slowing his pace, Wilson stopped at a tree, placing his hand on the hard bark before he took a seat in the shade with an exhale. His eyes grew heavy and his body felt limp. Wilson could hear whispers of unseen entities mocking him. This was it. He was going to die. Even if he ate the very small handful of berries he had picked earlier, he would only be able to survive for minutes, by his calculations.

Wilson accepted his fate. He didn't argue with the whispers or acknowledge the growing darkness consuming him. His head began to throb from all the noise - the whispers, the mocking! Wilson couldn't even find the strength to rub his forehead. But what could one final soothing touch do for him?

His thoughts brought him back to his mother, as a child. Her soft voice, her warm touch. Wilson could almost feel his mother's soft hands checking his forehead for a fever. It was comforting, knowing his mother would be here in his final moments. Peeling his eyes open, he had hoped to see his mother, but instead, an unknown figure hovered above him, cast in an orange glow.

Wilson blinked, once, then twice. The figure began to clear up and he could see.. A human! Wilson furrowed his brow and attempted to move but immediately rested his head helplessly against the tree. Almost immediately after, Wilson felt a hand pushing something towards his face.

Focusing on whatever it was, Wilson struggled to realize what it was for a moment before his eyes widened in surprise. It was food! Real food! Meatballs and vegetables! Wilson found what little strength he had left and ate as quickly as his body would allow him, desperately trying to fill his stomach with anything that could keep him alive.

As soon as he finished, Wilson wiped his mouth and rubbed the side of his head, shaking his head to clear his vision. Opening his eyes, he looked up at the figure again, seeing clearly now that it was a girl. A girl with a lighter. She had long, soot coloured hair and pale skin, accompanied by gray lipstick that made her appear even paler than she actually was.

Wilson stared for a moment, realizing the girl's face was full of curiosity. Finally breaking the silence, Wilson spoke. "Are you real?" he asked, bringing himself to his feet now that he had the strength. "A real person?"

The girl held her lighter close to her face before replying, her voice soft like a flute. "I was about to ask you the same thing. It wouldn't be the first time I've seen an illusion of a person."

"My name is Wilson. Wilson P. Higgsbury," Wilson responded nervously, extending a hand to the mystery woman. She, in response, looked at his hand with uncertainty, letting it fall flat at his side after a moment of rejection. "My name is Willow. Just Willow," she replied, looking back over her shoulder as if someone was behind her. As her eyes fell back to the flame of her lighter, Willow sighed in relief, as if she was relaxed by the sight of light, or fire, for that matter.

Before Wilson could get in another word, hisses from the dark pierced the momentary silence between the acquaintances. Willow grabbed Wilson by the arm and began to pull him through the darkness, the small lighter in her hand the only light source they had. "Well, Wilson P. Higgsbury, if you are real, I won't have your death on my conscious. Follow me!"

And so began Wilson's new adventure


	2. An Unlikely Friendship

After traversing through the darkness for a distance that felt like miles, Willow and Wilson finally began to slow up, panting and looking over their shoulders. Wilson put a hand on his chest, slouching as he stood still. "Can we... Stop... For a second?" he begged, his chest heaving from the distance they just covered.

Willow stopped and went back to Wilson's side, knowing full well what happens in the dark. "We don't have time to stop," she explained, clutching her lighter tight in her hands. "I would rather we go back to my camp and split ways afterwards."

Wilson lifted his head as Willow spoke, understanding why she wouldn't want to stay with a stranger, but still confused on why she wouldn't want to have someone help her survive. "Split up? Wouldn't it be wise to team up?"

Willow responded with a snort. "I'm still not completely convinced you're real. It's nighttime and anything is possible. Let's just get moving." Willow continued to traverse through the night and Wilson hurriedly made it to her side. "It's not much farther," Willow said, holding her lighter a bit further in front of her.

As they got closer to camp, Willow turned to Wilson. "Do you have any grass or logs?" Wilson dropped his backpack and rummaged through the sack before handing Willow a few tufts of cut grass. Willow snatched the grass from Wilson's hands and sat by her fire pit, using her lighter to set the tufts ablaze.

Taking a seat by the fire, Willow sighed in relief, staring deep into the fire as the glow reflected in her milky white eyes. Wilson turned his attention to Willow, taking a seat across from her by the fire.

Clearing his throat, Wilson decided to break the silence. "I suppose I should thank you, Miss Willow. You could have left me to starve but your kindness saved my life. I appreciate it more than what can be put into words." He was sincere with what he said. If it wasn't for Willow, he surely would have died. She took a chance on him and he would do whatever he could to repay her, even if it meant being put to work.

Willow didn't break her gaze from the flames, replying nonchalantly, "You're welcome. I figured if you were an illusion, you'd disappear. But it seems I'll have to wait until morning to know for sure."

Willow extended her hand into the fire, feeling the intense heat caress and kiss her skin. Wilson stammered, "Miss Willow, you'll burn yourself!" but Willow ignored his warning, not feeling any pain or burning against her hand. She had grown so used to the feeling of flames on her skin that it didn't harm her anymore.

Not a single tick of damage was taken. Another silence had grown between the two. Wilson stared at Willow in awe, noting to himself that his new friend had a very close relationship to fire. It was possible she was a pyromaniac, but Wilson didn't want to jump to conclusions, even if he had every reason to.

It didn't take long for the sun to rise once again. Willow sighed as the fire that had kept them safe all night finally went out. At long last, she turned her attention to Wilson. Reaching across the smoking embers of her short lived friend, Willow grabbed at Wilson's face, tugging at his cheeks.

The scientist whined, not very much enjoying the feeling of his face being pulled in different directions. "Miss Willow, I assure you I'm real. Ah, not so hard! That hurts!"

Willow let go of Wilson's face, putting a finger on her chin before lunging forward and grabbing at his hair. Wilson barely had any time to rub his sore cheeks before the pyro had begun to fumble with his hair. "If you're real, how exactly does your hair stick up like this? It's so poofy. I wonder what it would look like if I set it on fire," she mumbled to herself, making Wilson jump to his feet.

"No thank you, Miss Willow. I would rather not have my hair be lit on fire." That was the last thing Wilson needed. Willow the pyromaniac would forever be how he knew her from this moment on. "I am a man of science. I understand experiments are healthy when stimulating the mind, but it doesn't take much to know setting your hair afire could cause major burn scars. Not to mention, there's no telling if my hair would grow back."

Wilson scratched his chin, suddenly remembering that he was growing a beard. It made him extremely self conscious, but that feeling would be pushed to the very reaches of his mind as soon as he took a look around Willow's camp.

Not only did this sole survivor make a science machine, she had an alchemy engine! Chests galore! A drying rack for meat! Not one, but two crockpots! Wilson was in awe. "Did you build all of these yourself?" It was a stupid question with a very simple answer.

"Yeah, I did," Willow replied, standing up as she spoke. "I was a girl scout for the longest time. They don't teach you how to make some of these things but I had to figure it out if I wanted to survive."

Not a second later, Wilson made his way to the alchemy engine. He was impressed, to say the very least. "Miss Willow, you're brilliant!" he responded, running his hand across the cold metal of the bulky machine. Wilson was so intrigued that his head began to hurt. Though.. The whispers came back. Wilson groaned softly and placed his hand on his head, trying to shake out the noises.

Willow realized what was happening and made her way to one of the many chests she had at her base and removed a flower crown from its case. Carefully, Willow placed the garland on Wilson's head, even taking the opportunity to touch his strange hair some more.

The voices began to fade. Wilson blinked a few times and exhaled in relief. "I apologize, Miss Willow. I believe this place was beginning to affect me." Feeling his companion touching his hair again, Wilson turned and attempted to look serious as Willow shrugged her shoulders innocently. "Please refrain from touching my hair. Who knows what it looks like now." Lifting his hands to his hair, Wilson realized there was something new on his head.

Looking to Willow in confusion, he went to open his mouth before the pyro cut him off. "It's a garland. The flowers here can block out whatever makes those whispers."

Wilson didn't quite understand how flowers could stop the looming darkness, but he figured it was best to go with it. "Thank you, Miss Willow. It seems you've saved me again," he said, suddenly feeling the uselessness of his person. He wasn't made to survive in the wilderness. Willow was. She was much more capable than him. Maybe it would be best if they split up again. He would just weigh her down.

"You can drop the formalities, Wilson," Willow replied, looking up to the sky as she shielded her eyes. "I should go check the traps for rabbits. I could use the extra hands if you don't mind." She turned her attention to the scientist as he looked at her with hope in his eyes. She was asking him to help, so perhaps she was willing to teach him how to survive! "I can give you some equipment too in case we run into spiders. I kinda need the silk right now."

Wilson smiled for the first time in what felt like forever. "I would be honoured, Miss Willow. And I do apologize, I like to think of myself as something of a gentleman. I don't quite feel comfortable addressing you informally." In response, Willow rolled her eyes, digging through the chest at her feet.

Handing Wilson a spear and a helmet, Willow equipped herself with her own set. Not to mention, Willow had just put on a belt that was able to hold a pickaxe, axe, and shovel. She must have crafted that too, Wilson thought to himself.

"I planted some berry bushes up north by the traps. If you want, you could go ahead and grab those first," Willow explained, heading out of the camp already. Wilson hurriedly caught up to her, clutching the spear in his hands with the helmet hanging out of his backpack. He didn't want to wear it unless he absolutely needed to.

"If this goes well, we can talk about making this a partnership. Since you're real, it would be nice to have some extra hands at camp. Sometimes the workload is too much for a single person," Willow continued, stopping in front of a trap that jumped and squirmed.

"See, we already caught one." Willow bent down and opened the trap, grabbing the rabbit before stuffing it into Wilson's pack. Handing the trap to Wilson, she pointed to the ground, showing a rabbit hole. "Set it up just a bit away from the hole. When a rabbit comes out, it'll get stuck in the trap."

Wilson shrugged and sat on the ground, replacing the trap successfully next to the rabbit home. "Like that, I suppose?" Looking to Willow for approval, Wilson internally patted himself on the back when she nodded in response. This whole hunting thing wasn't as hard as he thought, at least not when they used traps. "So, how many traps have you set up?"

"About 10. I wanted to make sure I had enough food to survive the winter," Willow said, making her way to the next trap. Moving from trap to trap, Willow and Wilson worked together to collect as many rabbits as the traps held, setting them up again after clearing them. Willow showed Wilson where the berries were and together they harvested what they had. Carrots grew nearby and Willow took the opportunity to collect a few for dinner.

The day faded into the afternoon and Willow motioned for Wilson to join her. Soft hissing was heard from behind the trees and Willow grinned to the frightened scientist. "Put your helmet on, Wilson the science guy. We're gonna get some silk!" After being told, Wilson put on the helmet with a sigh, clutching his spear tightly in his hands. "Miss Willow, this can't possibly be safe..."

"Relax. If it gets out of control, I'll set their nest ablaze!" the pyromaniac responded before rushing after the spiders. "Miss Willow, that isn't safe, either!" Wilson called out, chasing after the wild child that decided attacking spider nests was a great idea.

The waves of spiders seemed endless, but at long last, the nest was destroyed and the spiders were slain. Wilson was covered in spider blood, completely disgusted and exhausted from having destroyed an entire colony. Willow, who had clothing stained with monster blood as well, was easily collecting silk and spider glands from their fallen foes. Her shoulder was burning from a bite she had sustained during the fight, but there wasn't much to worry about. She had a bit of healing salve back at the base that she could ask Wilson to use.

"It looks like that's all we're going to get here. Come on. Let's head back. I'm starving," Willow said to Wilson, patting him on the shoulder as if to say good job. Still shaking from the battle, Wilson nodded and followed Willow back to camp, not ever falling behind too far. Night was overhead and Willow's trusty lighter was out. As soon as they got back to camp, Willow took Wilson's pack and began to toss things into the crock pot. It didn't take long before both of them were relaxing in front of a warm fire, eating a good, hearty meal.

Willow seemed distracted. She usually didn't ask for help, but if she didn't, she might get an infection. Wilson took note of her staring at a chest rather than the fire and spoke up. "Miss Willow, you seem worried. Is something the matter?"

"A bit," Willow replied, scooting over to a chest. She rummaged through the container before pulling out what looked like a canteen. A squishy canteen. "I got scratched by a spider during the fight and my shoulder won't stop burning. I'm worried it might get infected and.." Tossing the salve to Wilson (who barely caught it), Willow sat in front of Wilson with her back facing him. She unbuttoned her blouse and exposed her shoulder. "I need you to put some of that salve on it."

Wilson's face flushed bright red and he immediately turned his gaze away. "M-Miss Willow! I couldn't possibly! I wouldn't dare! Are you quite certain I need to do this?" It wasn't very proper of a woman to expose her shoulders to a man, yet here they were. Willow clicked her tongue and looked at Wilson over her shoulder.

"Calm down. I'm giving you permission to put that stuff on my shoulder. It's not like I'm offering you my body or something. Could you hurry up? I don't want to get an infection," she said, her tone flat and irritated.

With a gulp, Wilson turned his head to Willow, the tips of his ears burning in embarrassment. He didn't want to stare too long, so he squeezed a bit of salve onto his palm. The medicine was cold and greasy, but it was the best disinfectant they could have in this hellscape. Wilson carefully rubbed the salve onto Willow's shoulder, his expression turning to worry when Willow hissed in discomfort. "I'm sorry, Miss Willow! I hope I'm not hurting you!"

"No, it's fine," she responded, her hands balled into fists. It stung, but it was a good thing they applied it when they did. The wound was probably going to get infected soon if they didn't. "I don't think I have any bandages left so I'm going to have to keep an eye on this for a while. And Wilson?"

The scientist pulled his hand away from the pyromaniac's shoulder. He watched as she pulled her blouse back over her shoulder. "Thank you. You've earned your place here so if you want to stay, you can."

Wilson was relieved to hear Willow's words of acceptance. His cheeks were still stained with blush as he replied, "Thank you, Miss Willow. I shall not disappoint!"

And so began the unlikely friendship between the gentleman scientist and the firestarter.


	3. Winter Wonderland

It took a full week for winter to settle across the entirety of this strange new world. Willow had shown Wilson many things - she taught him to survive. Of course, the gentleman scientist was thrilled. He was gaining knowledge the right way - through the mouth of a teacher who had experience - rather than from a mysterious voice coming through his radio. In hindsight, it was pretty stupid of him to be so eager to accept, but the pursuit of knowledge is full of risks.

Though their camp was far from perfect, the firestarter had taken the liberty of crafting two tents - one for her, and one for her new companion. At least now they didn't have to sleep on the cold stone during the harsh winters. She had also taught him about the shadow hands. These are real; they're not something you can only encounter when you're going insane.

First you'll hear a music box, eerie and soft coming closer and closer. Then you'll see hands with nails sharp and long coming for your campfire. If it comes too close, it'll steal some of your light. If you react fast enough and chase it back into the dark, it'll disappear, with the sound of a music box being forcibly shut. Willow had said that she didn't know where they came from, but Wilson had a theory.

Perhaps those hands were Charlie, coming to torture them when they are at their most vulnerable. Of course, there wasn't much evidence to support this, but who else could it be now that Maxwell was cursed to wander his own version of this hellscape?

Snow piled on the ground for what felt like months. Willow taught Wilson how to craft a shovel and together they had disposed of any and all snow that dared to fall in their little sanctuary. Despite everything Willow had taught Wilson, she broke one of her own rules. A few times she had decided to step away from the fire to open up a newly crafted bird trap, she didn't take a coat or a hat.

The young girl began to get sick, and lucky for her, it was a simple cold. It could have been worse! She could have caught pneumonia, Wilson thought to himself. Now that she was sick, though, it means she had to do significantly less work at the campsite. It was all up to Wilson.

"Achoo!" Willow sneezed, sniffling hard as her eyes drooped. Wilson hurried over to Willow, gasping and wincing as he carried a hot thermal stone in his hands. The once scraggly patches of hair on his face had grown into a magnificent beard, something Wilson despised but kept knowing it would keep his face warm in cold climates. On his head, he wore a hat, knowing squishing his beautiful curls was better than freezing to death.

Wilson peeked into Willow's tent and dropped the stone on the ground, shaking his burning hands in attempt to cool them down. "I figured out how to make one of these thermal stones. I think it will prove to be beneficial to your recovery, Miss Willow," he remarked, a half smile on his face. He wanted to keep cheery around her since she would most likely recover slower if she was given nothing but ill treatment.

"Thanks, Wilson," Willow mumbled, sniffling every few moments. Earlier that day, Wilson had made her a blanket made from wool and grass. Since she had received it, she hasn't removed it. "I appreciate everything you're doing for me."

Hearing Willow's words of appreciation made Wilson smile to himself. "It's not a problem, Miss Willow. I wouldn't be a proper gentleman if I didn't help those in need." In response, Willow raised her brow and Wilson chuckled to himself. "Worry not, Miss Willow. I'll take care of everything until you're better. All I want you to do now is focus on recovering. Shout for me if you need anything."

As Wilson exited Willow's tent, she smiled, calling out another thank you to the scientist before she placed the stone on her lap, curling up on the bedroll underneath her. Wilson shivered as the cold air kissed his body. He immediately picked up the stone next to the fire, sticking it into his backpack. At least he could make his own heat with that. Before he headed out, Wilson dug through a chest, pulling out a heavy coat Willow had made for him in the beginning hours of winter.

He pulled it over his arms and buttoned it shut as best he could, hoisting his pack over his shoulders next. The warmth of the thermal stone went through his whole body, making him feel nice and cozy. Wilson was ready to brace the cold! Taking his first few steps out of camp, Wilson turned his head back, a bit worried about leaving Willow by herself.

Shaking his head, Wilson reassured himself. _She's Miss Willow. She's the most capable person I know. Don't worry so much, Wilson, she'll be okay._

The strangest thing Wilson had realized about this world is that there are different versions of the wildlife. Instead of brown rabbits, there are white and gray ones. Instead of dark hounds, there are white ones. These certainly weren't a change for a single generation, since there was not a single dark coated animal to be seen (except maybe beefalo). These seemed to be a different type of the same species. It truly was fascinating.

But there would be time for observation later. For now, Wilson had a job to do. They desperately needed wood and food, maybe even some beefalo wool if possible. Holding his axe in his hands, Wilson exhaled, his breath showing in front of his face with a white puff. There wasn't a lot of daylight during winter so Wilson was going to have to make use of the time he had.

A small group of trees sat out the outline of the huge forest by their camp. Not wanting to wander too far away in case Willow needed something, Wilson made the decision to stay close and gather as much wood as he possibly could. He didn't like the idea of chopping down so many trees, but it was either that or freeze. And he certainly didn't want to freeze.

Willow had once warned Wilson about something called a "treeguard", a sentient tree that walked on two legs and swung with massive arms made of logs. Though he has never seen one, Wilson didn't want to take the risk. To avoid this, regardless of how warm or how cold it was, Wilson would plant pinecones or birchnut seeds to appease the tree monster.

The nearby forest was teeming with life. Dangerous hisses and wails leaked from behind the treeline, sending a shiver up the scientist's back. Wilson knew about the pigmen that lived nearby, but these didn't sound anything like them. Pigmen don't make those kind of noises. Perhaps it was a nest of spiders or maybe even no-eyed deer mimicking sounds from other wildlife nearby.

Wilson scratched his chin. No-eyed deer never mimicked other animals, at least not that he has observed. It could very well be that his mind was slipping from being so far from camp, and yet... Wilson turned his head back, his eyes settling on the tents Willow had pitched in the distance. He wasn't far at all, so what harm could it do to go just a bit further? It wasn't like he was running off, right?

 _Perish the thought_ , Wilson thought to himself. _What if Miss Willow calls for me but I'm not around to hear her? I can't just abandon her for some silly pursuit of knowledge. It's best I stay here and do what needs to be done so I can check on her._ Wilson turned his attention back to the trees, raising his axe to swing at the tree in front of him. He had already gathered enough wood for perhaps three days at best, but it was better to have too much than not enough. At least it was in Wilson's mind.

Just before his axe hit the bark, a low growl came from behind the trees, along with a scurrying sound. A rat? A giant mutant rat? That's what it sounded like, anyways, but Wilson knew this area pretty well by now. There were no rats anywhere nearby. He surely would have seen them. He peeked through the trees, squinting his eyes to get a better look. In between the thick evergreens, Wilson spotted the light of a pighouse.

The sun was beginning to set, so seeing a light through the trees wasn't too strange, at least if there were pigs living nearby. But something felt off. The light was on, but Wilson had a strange feeling the house was empty. He wasn't quite sure why his gut was telling him that, but he was usually right about these sorts of things. There were no snorts, no whines of pigmen from anywhere nearby, at least not anymore.

Taking a deep breath, Wilson pushed past the evergreen treeline and made his way towards the light of the pighouse. His feet shuffled through the snow that has built up from the long weeks of flurries. It was obvious the pigmen only pushed snow away every so often instead of when it becomes too hard to walk through. Wilson made a path through the snow as he walked through, figuring it would be easy to get home if he did so.

Trekking through snow always felt like it took forever and this time was no different. There wasn't enough daylight left to make it back without some sort of light source and Wilson cursed at himself for deciding this exploration would be a good idea. If only Willow was here. They could be using that handy lighter of hers. Luckily, Wilson had what he needed to craft a quick torch in his pack. If anything, he could just use that to hurry home.

As Wilson came closer to the pighouse, he realized it was quiet. Eerily quiet. Even when he started to get a little too close to the pighouse, the light didn't go off. Pigmen loved their space from humans and monsters, so why wasn't this light going off? Surely, someone had to be inside. Deciding to be bold, Wilson made his way up to the pighouse, nearly tripping over something that had caught on his foot.

With his reflexes, Wilson tossed his axe to the side and held his hands up, catching himself on the pigmen architecture. He didn't want to hurt himself with his axe, of course, so he trained himself to toss it to his side if he felt like he was going to fall. Only time will tell if this habit will become deadly in a place like this. Exhaling in relief, Wilson got his footing back, picking up his axe before he forgot.

He turned his attention to whatever he nearly tripped over and squinted in the shady area to see what it was. Bending at his hip, he reached out and picked up whatever it was, bringing it closer to his face before he realized what it was. Disgusted, Wilson turned his head away but sighed, knowing they needed this.

It was pigmen meat. The reason it was so quiet here is because the pigmen were all dead. Meat was scattered across the snowy floor along with pig skin and various items the pigmen had before they died. Wilson knew they needed the food. Pigmen don't count as people, right? They're just another animal, correct? Wilson shuddered at the thought of eating something that was capable of forming at least parts of a sentence. But if he didn't take it, it would go to waste and Willow could potentially starve.

Making a quick decision, Wilson collected everything off the forest floor and stuffed it into his bag. At least they had something new to eat tonight. The sun was just about to set. Wilson quickly crafted a torch, holding it away from his face with his axe in his other hand. The torch didn't offer much light, but it was better than dying in the dark. But something was wrong.

Everything around the orange glow that was cast from Wilson's light source looked.. Blue? Wilson put out his torch, for science, of course. There was light being cast from somewhere else, and it wasn't the pighouse. Looking to the sky which was deviod of stars, Wilson stared in shock. It was a full moon. Willow warned him about full moons... During this moon cycle, things were dangerous.

Before Wilson could remember what it was Willow told him to look out for, he heard a scream coming back from camp. Wilson's heart dropped and his stomach felt tight. That was Willow, no doubt about it. Clutching his axe away from his body, Wilson began to sprint back to camp, desperately trying to push through the snow and get back home.

Howling and barking was carried on the wind from the direction of their camp, as well. Willow screamed again, "Wilson! Help!"

"I'm coming, Miss Willow," Wilson desperately shouted in response, finally making it past the snow. He ran as fast as he could back home, seeing the shape of Willow jumping to avoid the bites and lunges of the hounds that had decided to attack their camp.

It wasn't easy to see everything in the moonlight, but there was enough to be able to tell the difference between Willow and a hound. Charging forward with heavy breaths, Wilson let out a shout, gaining the attention of a few hounds that were trying to hurt Willow. As he got closer, he realized Willow had taken the opportunity to arm herself with a spear. _Thank goodness_ , he thought to himself.

Two hounds were racing after Wilson now. His heart was pounding and his face was drained of all colour. This was life or death and Wilson knew how dangerous these creatures are. Swinging his axe in desperation, Wilson managed to strike one in the neck as it lunged at him, causing the creature to fall over and whine as it twitched in agony. It seems like the neck was the way to go.

Wilson struck the next hound in the side, which only made the beast that much more angry. It barked and lunged for Wilson, nearly missing him before Wilson stuck an axe in its neck. Hound blood splattered all over Wilson's coat, but it was better than it being his own.

Two hounds down, probably two more to go, Wilson reassured himself, turning his attention to Willow before realizing there weren't any hounds left. Willow was slumped on the ground, sniffling softly. Thinking she was hurt in the battle, Wilson rushed to her side, sliding across the snowy floor to check on her. He placed a hand on her cheek and lifted her head up, being greeted by a sick smile and a sassy remark.

"Hey, idiot. You're not supposed to go so far away from camp," Willow teased, turning her head to sneeze away from Wilson. Overwhelmed, Wilson hugged Willow, apologizing profusely into her shoulder. A bit surprised, Willow carefully wrapped her arms around Wilson, sniffling loudly next to his ear. "I'm fine. No bumps or bruises."

"Miss Willow, I'm so relieved you're okay," he mumbled, pulling away from their embrace to give a sheepish smile to her. "I do apologize for taking so long to come to your aid. Curiosity got the best of me back there and I must apologize again for being absent in your time of need."

Willow put a hand on Wilson's shoulder, giving a smile and a sniffle in return. "If you brought back dinner, I'll forgive you completely. I'm starving."

Wilson nodded quickly, waving his finger in the air. "Yes, yes, I did get something! It will take but a moment!" He stood up, first setting up the campfire, not only to keep Willow warm, but to be able to properly see in the darkness. The camp was littered with monster meat, something people couldn't eat without going insane. Kicking a piece of meat away from the camp, Wilson turned to the crockpot before he was knocked to the ground by a barking beast.

His axe skidded across the ground, leaving Wilson without a weapon. A growling hound stood above him, just about to lunge before a spear was sent through its neck. Wilson gasped and sputtered, turning his gaze immediately to Willow, who shakily stood over him. She kicked the hound off him and extended her hand. "That's the last of them," she said firmly, helping Wilson to his feet.

"By god," Wilson began blinking in order to take in what had just happened, "Miss Willow, I owe you my life yet again. I, I do apologize for nearly dying. You have my thanks." It was clear he was in a bit of shock, seeing as how quickly everything had happened. Clearing his throat, Wilson moved to the crockpot, tossing in the meat he had collected earlier, leaving it to do its job.

Removing his pack, he placed it on the ground and sat by Willow next to the campfire. Willow stared at Wilson whose attention was stolen by the dancing flames in front of him. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh yes, quite. I'm golden," Wilson replied, his expression not moving for a few moments. Willow was beginning to get very worried before Wilson suddenly began to cry, covering his face in shame. "I saw my whole life flash before my eyes!"

"Wilson, it's okay..."

"It was BORING!" Wilson shouted, wiping the tears from his face. The pyro smiled to herself and wrapped her arm around Wilson's back, resting her head on his shoulder. "You call it boring, I call it brilliant."

Wilson jumped a bit at her words. Tears kept streaming down his face as he sniffled and wiped his nose. "You, what?" His eyes were locked on her now, his heart beating fast in his chest as he awaited her next words.

"Come on, Wilson," she laughed, sniffling loudly. "You're the smartest guy I know. You always talk about science-y stuff that I can't even begin to comprehend. And before you say anything else, I want you to know that I don't think anything bad about you. I don't think you're a liability or useless or anything you think about yourself - including boring. You're far from it. You're nothing short of a brilliant scientist."

Wilson suddenly felt warm and fuzzy. No one had ever told him that before, not even his mother. She had passed away before she got the opportunity to see her son become a scientist. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest while he wiped away his tears, smiling gratefully to his companion.

"I barely compare to a great mind like yours, Miss Willow. You're much more capable of surviving than I am, but.. I appreciate your kind words. You're a wonderful person, Miss Willow, truly you are," he whispered back, feeling his cheeks turn a little red. He would later excuse this as him being cold, though.

Willow turned her attention to the fire, her cheeks beginning to feel like someone just pressed a lighter against them. "Thanks, Wilson. You are, too." A momentary silence settled between the two, but neither of them felt awkward in it. Wilson rested his head against Willow's, breathing softly next to the warm fire they shared.

"Do you think the food is done yet?" Willow asked after a moment. Wilson turned his head to the crockpot, which was no longer bouncing and sputtering. The scientist rose to his feet and grabbed a wooden bowl they had next to their cooking station and scooped some soup out of the bowl before returning to Willow's side.

"Apparently, meat is great for a stew," he said as he handed her a bowl. "Hopefully this helps you recover soon."

Willow smiled and took the bowl into her hands, blowing softly at the edge before taking a small sip. She patted the ground next to her, sighing in relief when Wilson sat next to her. She really was grateful he was here.

And so, the embers of romance began to reignite.


	4. Confessions and Calculations

Ever since that night by the fire, Wilson's heart has been out of control whenever he sees Willow. He occasionally removes himself from her presence, pretending to busy himself with some menial task that requires his immediate attention. Sometimes he's able to find something to do but most of the time, he needs to think of something on the fly. His companion noticed this pretty quickly and began to feel their connection diminish. Willow felt that perhaps Wilson was ignoring her. It bothered her quite a bit, but she wasn't about to bring it up.

Winter had come and gone; the snow and ice had all melted and was replaced by sunshine and heat waves. It got so bad, in fact, that the two had to figure out how to make an endothermic fire. Thankfully, Wilson had read about them in a journal he discovered the first day he appeared in the Constant and acquired the necessary items to build one. Their thermal stones would come in handy as well, becoming a source for cooling off rather than warming up.

With summer settling across the land now, Wilson had to shave his beard. The once magnificent facial hair was nothing more than tufts of hair now. Willow requested he save the hair, so for now it was tucked into a chest for safe-keeping. The scientist found it odd at first but Willow assured him it would be beneficial for them later on down the road. In fact, Willow was up to something herself. She seemed to be very interested in crafting things that easily passed the line of science and taboo practices.

The two seemed to grow distant during this time, especially since neither of them had the courage to address their reasons and feelings. During one of the worst heartaches Wilson had ever experienced, this same thing happened. The woman he loved so many years ago began to distance herself the same way both of them were doing now. Wilson's chest tightened. Turning to face his companion, his eyes rested on the soft features of the new flame that set his heart afire.

The expression she wore on her face didn't suit her at all. She seemed distracted and annoyed. Willow had been trying to craft something all day, some new machine that seemed to be more important than taking care of herself. Taking a deep breath, Wilson gave himself an internal pep talk and made his way to the ice box near the crockpot. Inside was a plate of eggs and bacon, a dish he knew Willow likes. Taking it into his hands, Wilson kicked the box shut and took shaky steps towards his soft spoken friend.

"Miss Willow," Wilson began, his voice shaking. "I, I have noticed you didn't eat yet today. I brought this for you."

Relieved, Willow turned her attention to Wilson. It seemed like forever since he's spoken a single word to her. Her milky coloured eyes stayed unmoving on him now, the contact making the gentleman scientist flush to a rosy shade. My, oh my, was he cute. Now that his beard was gone, Willow could clearly see Wilson's soft face. Her eyes traced his distinct cheekbones and his chin before she settled on his eyes. Those dark eyes were anything but. Though they were the colour of coal, Willow noticed how they danced with life, bright and beautiful.

Fidgeting nervously, Wilson knelt on the ground and handed the plate to his companion who took it in her hands with a nod. Wilson rubbed the back of his neck, turning his gaze away before sitting on his backside. "I'm about to go out for a bit. I have to check the rabbit traps and hopefully find some beefalo droppings. We're all out and..." Wilson's voice began to trail off before he cleared his throat. His eyes moved back to Willow who seemed to have kept staring.

"Is something wrong?" Wilson asked, touching his face as it flushed to red. Willow smiled softly in response, finally turning her gaze away. "I'm glad I got to hear your voice today. I don't remember when you last spoke to me."

Her words struck his heart. Had he really been ignoring her for so long? He couldn't have been. It's only been a few hours, right? Wilson swallowed hard, his heart beginning to pound at his chest. "I apologize wholeheartedly! I didn't mean to make you feel alone! I've just been... Thinking... And it's been consuming most of my days. I find myself thinking far too much these days and I must admit that sometimes the time slips away.."

"Wilson." Willow cut him off, taking a bite of eggs before continuing. "You don't need to think right now. I understand what you mean. I've been thinking a lot too." She paused for a moment, placing her plate on the ground. "We barely know each other. All I know is your name. We've been surviving together for how long? I'm curious about you, Wilson P. Higgsbury."

The scientist's chest was aching from the intense pounding of his heart. He placed his hand over his heart, gripping at his shirt for a moment but writing it off as he adjusted his clothes. His companion brushed her hair behind her ears before eating a piece of bacon. Her eyes were locked on Wilson, unmoving as she waited for him to begin his introduction. Wilson knew they had been surviving together for quite a while and he knew very little of her, but what did it matter if they knew each other's histories?

With only a little thought, Wilson brought his hands together, twiddling with his thumbs before stammering out, "Well.. I am a man of science.. Though you already knew that, um let's see... I am 31 years old as of this year and I ended up here through a man named Maxwell. I don't really know what else to say, so I suppose questions are welcome."

Upon mentioning Maxwell, Willow scrunched her nose. She didn't have to say anything for Wilson to know exactly why she had that reaction. Clearly, he was the reason she was there too. It made him wonder how many other people he dragged here. Not to mention Charlie, as well. Who knows how many people she dragged into the Constant. The two of them were nothing more than bad eggs. A brief moment of silence was cut off by Willow piping up.

"Did you leave anyone important behind before you ended up here?" Oh what a question. Her companion unconsciously rubbed at his left ring finger, his eyes cast to the ground. Willow rose her eyebrows, somewhat surprised by this. If she was right, that means..

"Not really. My father hasn't spoken to me in many years and my mother passed away before my 14th birthday. Though.." his voice drifted off and his hands now rested on his lap. "I did have a fiancée once, a long time ago. She left me for a rival scientist. He was actually successful, and I was just.. A mad scientist that had no real inventions to showcase. I don't blame her for leaving."

Willow instantly felt horrible, having made him bring up something he was clearly still hung up about. Her stomach hurt a bit, quite irritated that Wilson was basically abandoned by the people he loved. "To Hell with them," Willow replied, placing her hand gently over Wilson's. "They don't deserve you anyways. Your brain is probably too big for them, right?"

A soft chuckle left the scientist's lips before he turned his attention back to the reassuring comfort of his fire loving friend. "That's more than likely not the case but I very much appreciate the sentiment. But that's enough about me. What's your story, then?"

Willow pulled her hand away and leaned back against the chest behind her. She pulled her lighter out of her pocket and held it in her hands, flicking it open and close a few times before settling. "I like fire, but you already know that. I'm 24 years old if my birthday hasn't already passed. I have no way of knowing so I'll just assume it hasn't come yet. As for my homelife," she continued, holding her lighter close to her chest.

"My family never approved of my love for flames. Especially after I accidentally started a fire in my bedroom. I caught my curtains on fire and nearly started a house-wide problem." Her lips curled into a smile as she giggled at the memory.

"It would have been fine. Probably. But my mother took away my lighter anyways." Willow lifted her eyes to look at Wilson, shrugging her shoulders. "That didn't stop me, though. My father put me in girl scouts in the hopes that some outdoor activities would set me straight. It was fun; I earned all of my badges. But right before I was going to become a senior leader, I set a fire behind the cabin I was staying in. I got in a lot of trouble, but no one got hurt so I don't think I should have."

Wilson laughed a little bit which caused Willow to shake her head. "Fire is hard to contain, especially from someone who loves it as much as you do, huh?"

"Yes, that's right," Willow replied, biting her bottom lip to fight back a smile. Usually when people hear about her destructive nature from her past, they either become very uncomfortable or run off. This was a pleasant change of tone, especially from someone like Wilson. Maybe they weren't so different after all.

Flicking her lighter open again, Willow lifted her hand before sticking it directly into the flames. Wilson physically jumped, reaching a hand out to stop her with his eyes filled with worry. "This is probably the coolest thing about me. Which is pretty ironic, right? But fire? It doesn't hurt me."

Removing her hand from the flames, she rested her hand against Wilson's, their palms touching. Her hand was hot to the touch but it didn't feel like it was burning. Wilson's face seemed to absorb the warmth from Willow's hand as his face started to turn red. The pyromaniac took note of this but didn't remove her hand. She wasn't quite sure if it was contact from a woman or contact from her that set a fire in his cheeks. It didn't take long before Wilson stuttered.

"Miss Willow, I have a confession," he started before cutting himself off from the sudden eye contact his companion had set. From this distance, it looked like Willow's pale face was turning pink, but it was probably just his imagination. Silence embraced the two of them for what seemed like ages before Wilson decided to speak again.

"Uh.. About my hair!" he excused, removing his hand from hers. A sheepish smile tugged at his face as a sigh left Willow's lips. "Er.. It was an experiment from uh.. Ten years ago? Yes, that's right! I uh, was attempting to create a serum that could reverse the cycle of aging and I used myself as a guinea pig, if you can believe it. It did nothing for my skin, but my hair has been this way ever since!"

Willow wasn't sure if this story was the truth or if it was an excuse to hurry the conversation along, but either way, she felt like maybe she'd made him uncomfortable. Maybe she had pried too much into his past, or maybe her efforts to get to know him better caused a bigger rift than what could have happened if she hadn't brought it up in the first place. Either way, Willow shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know what kind of story I expected with hair like that. Thanks for sharing," she said, tucking her lighter into her belt as she stood. "I'm going to go check the rabbit traps. If we're lucky, they're still standing. Can't catch rabbits with a pile of ash."

Wilson shrugged and replied, "Stranger things have happened. But you're right. Though, I could do that if you want. I was planning on going out earlier anyways. If there's anything else you want me to do, let me know."

With a knowing smile, Willow picked up an axe and handed it to her scientific partner. "You could go out and get some wood. We need it for the fire tonight. But don't forget your thermal stone. Heat stroke isn't fun." In response, Wilson took the axe and turned to the ice box. He removed the stone and stuck it in his pocket before heading off. "I'll be back soon, Miss Willow."

"Be safe," Willow called out, rubbing her arm with a sigh. Wilson seemed so eager to leave. It tugged on Willow's heartstrings. Not that she would say anything about it, though. Hopefully they could talk again later on. Taking her own thermal stone, the pyro made her way to the north. Emptying the rabbit traps was her objective today. Hopeful for later on, Willow held her head high.

Wilson, on the other hand, smacked himself in the forehead. "How could I be so stupid?" he asked himself, taking quick steps to the line of trees to the west. He completely shut down as soon as he looked Willow in the eyes. How was that charming? He had the perfect opportunity to tell her how he feels, and he just.. Couldn't. In the end, Wilson blew it. But then a thought hit him.

Stopping in front of a tree, Wilson raised his axe. As the axe hit the bark of the tree, the gentleman scientist's brain began to come up with a brilliant idea. If he could work up the courage tonight, he would absolutely tell Willow how he feels. An excited smile peel across his lips as he rehearsed in his head what he could say to her. He would definitely start with a compliment.

"Miss Willow," he began, "you look lovely tonight. No, that's not it. You look fiery? No, not that either. Magnificent? Too much. Ah, I know! Miss Willow, I'm a man of science, yet you've bewitched me?" As the tree fell on its side, Wilson groaned. "Absolutely not. That sounds horrible."

Collecting the logs that dropped from the tree, Wilson made his way to chop another tree. A low growl came from behind the trees, sending a chill down his spine. Slowly turning to face the sound, Wilson froze. A huge tree was making its way to him, moving on two feet. Was he going to have to fight this thing? Standing his ground, Wilson raised his axe. The tree raised its arm and...

Thankfully, none of the traps had set on fire. It was actually quite surprising. Collecting the rabbits was the easy task, but even if Willow was able to capture all of them within a few minutes, she didn't want to return to camp just yet. Taking a seat on the ground, Willow rubbed the back of her neck. She couldn't stop thinking about Wilson. He was the only person that could take her mind off of fire completely. Her cheeks began to flare and her heart began to pick up speed.

Shaking her head, the young pyro hugged her knees. It was obvious she liked him, but it didn't seem like Wilson liked her that way. And if he did... No. He didn't. He was so eager to leave her side, so why would she be so worried about him liking her? Willow sighed to herself. There was no reason to wallow in self pity anymore. It hadn't been long since she sat, but she wasn't the type to feel sorry for herself for too long. If Wilson didn't like her, that's fine. The companionship was enough for her.

Lifting herself to her feet, Willow brushed off her skirt and took a few steps towards the berry bushes. A scream caught her attention and she whipped her head around. It sounded like Wilson! Willow turned around and began to sprint towards the noise. "Wilson! What's wrong?!"

There wasn't an answer. Willow's heart pinched in her chest. If Wilson was hurt, what was she going to do? Spotting a figure in the distance, Willow gasped, running as fast as her feet would take her. As she got closer, she saw Wilson, walking unscathed towards her. Her heart began to relax, but only for a moment. Wilson collapsed on the ground, no longer moving. "Wilson!"

Dropping to her knees as soon as she reached him, Willow put Wilson's head on her lap, realizing that there were clear signs of a fight. Wilson was covered in scratches, specifically pine needle scratches. His clothes were torn all over the place and his breathing was hoarse. Tears began to well up in her eyes as she realized he wasn't going to make it. Getting back on her feet, Willow hoisted Wilson over her shoulder and carried him back to camp. There was something there that could help.. Maybe.

"It's okay, Wilson, I'm here. I'm going to save you," she whispered, desperately making her way to camp. It felt like ages before they returned. Laying Wilson carefully on the ground, Willow brushed his hair behind his ears, biting her bottom lip. She couldn't sit there and stare so she went to a chest and pulled out a strange amulet. She found this weeks ago and always wondered what it did. But hopefully it could save his life. The red gem sparkled in the sunlight, practically teasing her with the use of it.

Slipping the necklace around Wilson's neck, Willow held Wilson in her lap again, cradling him gently while her heart stung. "You're going to be okay, Wilson. I'm going to be here when you wake up... I'm not going to let this be the end."

"Miss Willow.." Wilson mumbled, "Miss Willow.."

Willow inhaled sharply. This was hurting her much more than she ever could have imagined. The amulet began to glow and colour began to flow back to Wilson's face. Placing her forehead against his, Willow whispered promises to Wilson, practically begging him not to leave her. "I'm right here, Wilson. Just relax. I promise I'm not going anywhere, so don't you go anywhere either."

Lifting her head, she placed a soft kiss on his forehead. Her milky eyes filled with tears and slid down her face. If Wilson was going to die, she wasn't going to leave his side. And it was now or never. "I think... No. I like you, Wilson. And I don't want you to go.. Please be okay. Please." Wilson, despite being mostly unconscious, could hear Willow's desperate pleas. He wanted to open his eyes, to hold Willow and show her he was okay. His body just wouldn't let him.

The amulet, however, was working. It was flowing life back into Wilson. Willow took a chance and it turned out to be the right one. To Willow, it felt like nothing was happening. She was coming to terms with the fact that she was going to end up alone again. Soft cries left her lips, her eyes closing tight. There was no way she could survive on her own again. Wilson thought she did great, but in reality, Willow felt like giving up every single day. The only reason she didn't was the hope she could possibly find a place to call home.

And then she met Wilson. She found her home. Even if he didn't think of her that way, she felt home. Tears dripped off her chin and onto Wilson's face. If Wilson was gone, she would be gone, too. Maybe not physically, but emotionally. "Wilson, I don't just like you.. I need you."

Her words were sincere. She needed Wilson now more than ever. "Wilson, I lo-" she began, but was cut off by something pressing against her cheek. It felt.. Like a hand. A warm hand. Willow opened her eyes, her expression filled with confusion and hope. Exhaling softly, Wilson slowly opened his eyes. His hand was resting on Willow's cheek. Despite not having much strength, he rubbed his thumb against her skin, offering comfort and support.

"Miss Willow, crying doesn't suit you," he whispered, a weak smile tugging at his lips. Overjoyed, Willow's expression changed to relief. She grabbed at Wilson's shirt collar and tugged him up to her as she leaned in and kissed Wilson on his lips. Her eyes shut tight as she kissed him, pulling back to pepper his face with excited kisses. Dumbfounded, Wilson blinked. "Miss Willow? I, I'm okay, I promise."

"Shut up," Willow whispered, caressing his face before kissing him again. Both of their hearts were beating fast in their chests. Wilson slowly closed his eyes and kissed her back, his weak body taking in more life from the amulet Willow had given him. At last, Willow pulled back and smiled at Wilson, laughing in joy. She thought she was going to lose it all but instead, she was given everything.

Wilson stared at Willow as she spoke. "I thought I was going to lose you. I don't know what I would do without you."

"You couldn't get rid of me even if you tried, Willow," Wilson joked, sitting up as he touched his chest. The thought that he had almost died hadn't quite set in yet. All he could think of was Willow. "I have feelings for you. I would never leave you behind."

Wilson's face flushed red. He said it! And what timing! If Willow hadn't been so forward though, who knows if he could have said it so easily. In an instant, Willow was clinging tight to Wilson. Her arms would have to be pried off of him if he wanted to go free. Not that he minded. "I have feelings for you too, Wilson. I think I'm in love with you."

The scientist sighed in relief, holding Willow in an embrace. "I'm so relieved to hear you say it. A kiss can leave speculations, you know." The pyro giggled a bit. "I can only imagine."

As the sun began to set, Willow pulled back and rose an eyebrow at Wilson. "Though, you called me Willow instead of Miss Willow." With a shrug, Wilson chuckled. "I suppose confidence got the best of me. I hope you don't mind."

"No, not at all," she replied. "I'm glad I could make you feel that way." Her face was painted red. With a sigh, Wilson leaned in and kissed Willow once more. The sun began to set behind them. Danger be damned. As long as he had her by his side, Wilson had nothing to fear. Well, almost. Grabbing a log from behind him, he tossed it into the endothermic fire, casting the two in blue light.

And so, the pyromaniac successfully set the scientist's heart afire.


End file.
